Meus
by decorusvita
Summary: For ten years, Antonio hasn't seen, let alone heard from, Lovino Vargas. Not since that night when Lovino's family was mysteriously slaughtered, while he himself disappeared without a trace. But none of that matters anymore. Because he's here, only he hasn't come alone...[HIATUS]


**WARNINGS (please read): Character death(s), violence and torture of varying degrees (both physical and psychological; both on and off 'screen'), and non-explicit dub-con (A.K.A dubious consent of a sexual nature).  
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**A/N: **The inspirations for this story will be posted at the very end of the story. I don't want to possibly give anything away ;)**  
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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

"_Are you fucking kidding me? They left you home alone **again**? What the fuck!"_

I cringe from all the yelling that's blaring through my earpiece, unable to do anything else since the house phone is being firmly held in place between my cheek and shoulder. At the same time, I'm trying to be extra careful and not drop the recently cooked pot of pasta currently in my hands.

"Lovi~! Not so loud~!" I whine, going to the kitchen sink and straining the pasta before setting it down on the granite counter top. With my hands finally free, I firmly grab the phone with one hand, wincing when Lovino ignores me and continues to scream.

"_Why aren't you more upset about this, damnit? It's your goddamn __**birthday**__, for fuck's sake!"_

I can't help but smile a little, understanding him well enough to know by now that underneath all that yelling, he was actually truly concerned about me...though his face would turn a bright tomato-red and he would adamantly deny such a thing if asked. So very _cute_~!

"I don't mind, Lovi, especially since I have _you_ to celebrate with~! Besides...," I smirk, unable to help myself, "Would you _really_ want my parents to hear you screaming out my name as you cum?" I laugh loudly when I start to hear a rather strange combination of loud stuttering and swearing, quickly moving the phone a safe distance from my ear in order to avoid any further damage on my eardrums. After waiting about a minute, I place only the speaker part to my mouth, the closer distance allowing me to hear his uncute words much more clearly.

"–_can't fucking believe you, you arrogant, motherfucking son of a–!"_

"_So~!_" I interrupt cheerfully, talking over him and his continuous (though now mumbled) string of curses, "You're still going to come over after you're done visiting Feli at the hospital, right~? How is he doing by the way? You still haven't told me when he'll be discharged...actually, you haven't complained about him at all this past week~!" The other end abruptly becomes silent, to the point that I almost wonder if Lovino had hung up on me if it wasn't for the soft sounds of his breathing. Fidgeting, I wait for _some_ kind of response, unsure of what to make of his sudden silence.

"Lovi...? Is something the matter, my love?"

"_A-Antonio, I...I mean, Feliciano is...," _Lovino pauses, and I hear some deep, shuddering, breathes on the other end. I patiently wait for him to speak again before he finally continues in an even smaller voice, _"F-Feliciano is d...he's...s-shit, he's d-d-dying, Antonio...he...he looks perfectly **healthy**, but...but the doctors are telling us that he only has a month to live...and that's if he's...if he's 'lucky'..."_

The whole world seems to stop by the time he's finished speaking, a pregnant silence falling between us as his words slowly sink in. I have no idea how long I stand there for, but when I hear a soft sniffle coming from the other end of the phone, I immediately snap out of my daze. Taking a deep breath, I try to swallow down my own growing emotions for another time. I needed to focus right now...for Lovino. He needs me...needs _something_ to hold on to; someone to be there to coddle and hold him.

For someone to just _be _there for him...even though I was well aware that there was _nothing_ that I could possibly do or say to make it all better, still...

I already knew how important Feliciano was to him, how Lovino felt that he was the only one besides myself who would love and accept him no matter what. Just how long had he been bottling all this up anyway? How long had this been tearing him apart? Has he known since Feliciano was admitted to the hospital a week ago...? It was suppose to be for something small though...at least that's what he told me, and he _seemed_ perfectly fine. But looking back on it, I _did_ find some of his behavior rather strange this past week. He's been much more irritable lately, snapping at the smallest of things, only to start crying all of a sudden and wanting me to hold him tightly. Back then, I had brushed it aside, thinking that it was due to a lack of sleep or something, since I noticed the bags that had recently formed under his eyes. It's not like I was exactly complaining about the extra cuddling time either...

Oh,_ God_...how could I be so_ stupid_?

"Lovino, why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" I demand, my voice a bit more harsh than I intended as I hastily open a kitchen drawer to get a hold of my car keys before quickly shoving them in my jean's pocket. There's silence before I hear his voice again. It sounds so small and so...so _broken_...

"_Because I...I...f-fuck, I-I wanted you to have a nice birthday for once, okay? I didn't...I didn't want to fucking worry you about this shit yet..."_

"_Fuck_ my birthday," I growl, ignoring a surprised intake of breath at my choice of words. I don't know why my mind was focusing on the anger so much...maybe it was to ignore the pain that I was still trying to hold back. Whatever the reason, to say that I was a little angry at this point was an understatement. I mean...before Lovino and I were even a couple, we've been best friends for years...ever since he first moved next door when he was five, and that was ten years ago! You would_ think_ that he knew me well enough to know that I wanted to _be there_ for him, no matter what! Haven't I already proven that to him countless times? His brother is _dying_, and he's worried about my _fucking_ _birthday_?

I'm still mentally fuming as I head on through the hallway and over to the closet, roughly opening the door to grab the first random coat I can get my hands on, "I'm coming over. Are you still at the hospital?"

"_What are you–? Antonio, no! You can't do that! You **know** how my parents are! If they see you here, then they might figure out that we're–!"_

"I really don't give a damn about your parents right now, Lovino," I mutter darkly, interrupting him from saying another word as I struggle to maneuver the coat on while still holding on to the phone, "I won't let you go through this alone. I love you and–"

"_Exactly!" _Lovino's voice suddenly yells, cutting me off, _"That's exactly **why** you can't be here, because...because..."_

I had just finished putting on my coat and was about to open the front door when his voice had started trailing off, the sudden change in his tone immediately dissipating my anger and making my body halt its movements. There's a short silence before Lovino finally continues speaking.

"_B-Because I...I don't have the fucking strength right now to just act like 'friends', alright? I...I just **can't**...,"_ he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, _"I'll...I'll just ask my parents to drive me home now. I'll make something up...I'll tell them that I want to sleep at home or something, and then I'll come on over when they leave. Feliciano is sleeping right now anyways, and they're already planning on spending the night here so...so you don't need to come, okay?" _I gulp loudly, my hand starting to twitch on the doorknob as I contemplate on what I should do now.

"_Antonio...**please**."_

It feels like hours before I finally sigh in defeat, moving my forehead to rest it against the cold wood of the door, knowing that I couldn't bring myself to say 'no' to him..._especially_ not right now...

"Alright...I won't come over...," I mutter reluctantly, hearing a huge sigh of relief from the other end, "Just get here as soon as you can, okay? I love you, Lovino..._so much_..."

"_I know you do...,"_ he replies softly before hanging up on me, leaving me with only the dial tone for company. I listen to the tone for a couple more seconds before finally having enough of the sound, turning off the phone and setting it down on the table by the door. After taking my time pulling off my coat and putting it back in the closet, I close the door and shuffle back to the kitchen, tossing my keys on the granite counter by the sink. As I move around the room, I find myself pulling out a knife along with some fresh tomatoes from the fridge, feeling so disconnected from the world around me. Everything just felt so surreal...Feliciano was _dying_. It was so unfair, and it felt like it just came out of nowhere...

I feel completely numb as I slowly dice up the tomatoes, despite not feeling the least bit hungry anymore. My actions are almost robotic as I continue to do various miscellaneous tasks, needing to do _something_ to occupy myself before Lovino came over. It wasn't until I had just finished cleaning the same pile of dishes for the twentieth (or was it the thirtieth?) time that my eyes even glance up at the microwave's clock, showing that it was well past ten. I abruptly stop washing the knife in my hands and frown at the glowing numbers. Hadn't Lovino originally called around seven...? But it shouldn't have been more than a fifteen minute car ride...we _are_ next-door neighbors after all. Besides, we hadn't been talking for _that _long to begin with, so...

The wet knife clatters on the counter next to the kitchen sink, and I find myself immediately heading for the small table by the front door. That's where I left the house phone, right?

Shit...what if something bad happened at the hospital to keep him there? Had Feliciano somehow gotten _worse_? I feel a large lump starting to form in my throat at the thought. What if he's–?

All the questions that are swimming around in my head are halted as soon as I come into full view of the front door, noticing how it was wide open. Surprised, I stop moving and simply stare out the door, feeling the cool, night air gently brush against my face. That's strange, I don't remember leaving it open...

Shaking my head in confusion, I continue forward and shut the door close, making sure to bolt the lock shut. Afterwards, I go to the table and grab the phone, already walking back towards the kitchen with it in hand. I'm not even halfway through dialing his number before I hear the front door bang loudly behind me, the thunderous sound catching me completely off guard.

"_Fuck_!" I curse to myself, my heart beating a mile a minute as my head whips around to look at the door. A sudden explanation passes through my mind and I let out a relieved chuckle, though it sounds a bit strained.

"Don't scare me like that, Lovi," I reprimand shakily, making sure to say it loud enough so that he can hear me as I walk back over to the front door and unlock it, "So what took you so–?"

My words die in my throat when I open the door, only to see no one there. Taking a small step outside and onto the lit-up porch, I look past the stone walkway and onto the grassy lawn, noting nothing out of the ordinary.

"Lovi...? Is that you?" I call out, taking another look around me, "Come on, this isn't funny..." I frown when I'm only met with the far away sounds of the highway, looking at the front lawn and neighborhood around me one last time. Without another word, I go back inside and close the door behind me, making sure to lock it again. I sigh at the neighbor's childish prank before I finish typing in Lovino's number, bringing the speaker to my ear as soon as I click the 'send' button. It barely rings once before a mechanical voice 'answers'.

_"We're_ _sorry, the number you have reached is not in service at this time. Please check the number, or–" _

I don't bother to listen to the rest of it and instead hang up, retyping the number in hopes that I made some kind of mistake. After receiving the fifth identical message, I give up, throwing the phone on the small table in frustration. I roughly run a hand through my hair, getting more and more nervous as time drags on. Something was obviously _very_ wrong. Not only should Lovino have been here hours ago, but for that automated message to be on his cell instead of his usual voicemail...something _very_ bad must've happened at the hospital...

Without another thought I sprinted back to the kitchen, frantically searching the counters for my car keys. I didn't know what was going on, but I had to do _something_. Fuck! Where could they be? I know I left them in here somewhere...

Finding them by the sink, I let out a small 'aha!' of triumph and immediately go to grab them. Something catches my eye though and I stop with my arm outstretched, noticing a small puddle of water right next to the sink.

Why do I have this unnerving feeling that something should be there...?

Before I can even register what's happening, my body is being violently yanked downwards, my head slamming harshly against a granite counter on my way down, creating a loud 'CRACK.' The sound echoes inside of my skull as it throbs wildly, making it almost impossible for me to think straight, let alone find the will to move as I continue to just lie there. But despite the intense pain, I struggle to remain conscious, trying to concentrate on my surroundings instead of the impeding darkness. I focus on the crimson pool that is forming around my head, watching as the color begins to stain the white, wooden cupboards in front of me.

Suddenly, someone's knee is digging its way into my back and I let out a pained groan, closing my eyes. A long, sharp, object is then placed along the very base of my throat, the cold blade somehow feeling warm against my skin as that same, strange warmth starts dripping onto my neck and shoulder. Their breathe is hot as it caresses the shell of my ear, quickly followed by something soft gently rubbing itself against my hair. Even through my disoriented state of mind, the action sends a disgusted shiver down my spine, making whoever it was pause in their actions. The person then harshly bites my ear in retaliation, forcing a pained hiss to pass through my clenched teeth.

"_Meus_..."

The word is possessive as they whisper it against my ear, something about their voice faintly registering to me. Then, without warning, the knife is swiftly being plunged at an angle through my collarbone, an agonized scream ripping its way out of my throat. My whole body starts thrashing wildly, trying in vain to get away from source of the pain, only for my mind to finally comprehend the terrifying realization that I couldn't fully move my arms and legs. I can do nothing then but scream louder, especially when I start to feel the knife's blade slowly twisting, until–

"_Surprise~_! Happy Birthday, Antonio~!"

My eyes snap open to see two strange men bursting through the front door of my apartment, my sluggish mind clearing up just enough to recognize them as my two best friends, Francis and Gilbert. They both had giant smiles on their faces as Elizabeta trails not too far behind them, an amused smile on hers as she carries what appears to be a birthday cake. Running a hand through my hair, I struggle to return to reality, trying my best to simply forget about that horrible night and compose myself. I even try to smile at them, like I usually do, but I just know that I'm failing miserably. I can only imagine what my 'smile' might look like right now. It felt so unnatural on my face...like it didn't belong there. Hell, at this moment, I couldn't even fully remember _how_ to smile...

That nightmare of a memory...it was all just too _fresh_...

As soon as Francis takes a better look at my face, his smile slowly falters, a look of worry now crossing his features. He looks like he's about to say something to me but Gilbert roughly pushes past him, cutting him off and grinning wildly at me.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get your lazy ass up already! The awesome me has _arrived_!" Gilbert exclaims, a giant smirk starting to form on his face, "I still can't believe that you're fucking _twenty-seven_...god_damn_ you're getting old!"

As Gilbert starts cackling, I look away from my friends and remove my hand from my hair, slowly moving my body to a sitting position on the couch and bending over my knees to grab the edge of it with trembling hands. I ignore the sound of Francis calling out my name as I struggle to regulate my now ragged breathing, one of my hands subconsciously going to trace where I knew the thick scar was underneath my shirt. The scar along my collarbone seems to almost ache as I vividly remember how the knife had been driven into it ten years ago. Someone's hand was starting to shake my other shoulder but I hardly notice it, all of my attention focused solely on that one spot.

Why does it almost feel like that warm blade is still piercing through my flesh...?


End file.
